


Benediction

by kitausu



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, But whatever, Drabble, Fluff, Gen, Gerard is a dick, I do what I want, M/M, this is so dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 15:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitausu/pseuds/kitausu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Kill him.” Two words sent his world falling apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Benediction

“Kill him.” Two words sent his world falling apart.

Gerard stared at him expectantly, obviously expecting compliance. Of course he expected compliance; he was the kanima, Gerard his master but…

“Jackson, don’t make me repeat myself.” No, no, don’t repeat it.

He could already feel the scales of the kanima sliding over his arms, his higher thought degenerating to kill kill kill. His eyes locked with Stiles, and while usually they were the first to change, this time they stayed crystalline blue to the very last minute. It was only as the scales rippled across his cheek, over his nose, that they changed with a sickening click.

“Kill Stiles.”

_Kill Stiles Kill Stiles Kill Stiles_

The kanima stalked closer, heedless of the pained whimpers of the prey before him. He scented the air, his tongue flickering as he confirmed the identity his master had given him.

_KillStilesKillStilesKillStiles_

He could feel the approval of his master encouraging him on, his tail flicking back and forth as he stalked even closer, going slowly, feeding off of his master’s glee. His eyes roamed around the room before settling on the prey’s mouth, the prey’s nose, the prey’s eyes.

“Jackson, please.” His eyes were glazed with fear and…and heartbreak.

_KillStilesKill…Stiles…Stiles…StilesStilesStiles_

“Stilessss?” the kanima…no…Jackson, _Jackson_ , jerked back in surprise at the slurred hissing quality of his words.

“Kanima, kill him!” Gerard howled, his fingers clutching his pill box wildly as he stepped closer to the pair.

He whirled, his tail wrapping protectively around Stiles’ ankles, comforting, not threatening.

“My name is Jackson, and I don’t answer to you.” He snarled, his fangs elongating, eyes flashing amber as he stalked towards the hunter.

“Jackson?” Stiles voice reverberated through him, settling his rage, bringing him back enough to recognize the differences of his body.

The scales were gone, replaced by a thick fur up his arms, down the sides of his face. His claws were no longer those of the kanima, his fangs were wolf like…his mind…his mind was his own.

“I’m a wolf.” He was actually laughing, so startled by the change in events he almost forgot about Gerard, huffing and puffing behind him.

“Jackson look out!” Stiles gasped as he frantically struggled against his bonds.

Stiles didn’t need to worry; Jackson snatched the gun out of Gerard’s grip, sneering as he pressed the barrel against the man’s skull, “Someone should have put you in a home old man.”

“Jackson, no!” he froze in surprise, taking care to pin Gerard’s wrists to his back before turning to his…Stiles.

“Jackson, knock him out, then come untie me, please.” He wanted to rebel, he was no one’s servant, not anymore.

But this was Stiles, sweet beautiful Stiles who pressed kisses to his temple in the morning, who whimpered in his sleep and clung like a limpet to Jackson’s chest. It didn’t take much to lay Gerard out, just a decisive knock to the back of his neck. He stalked back across the basement room, his claws still out to slice through the rope around Stiles’ wrists. He allowed Jackson to take his hands in his, lifting his red raw wrists to his lips for a gentle kiss.

“Are you okay?” Jackson huffed, his breath bittersweet against the wound.

“I wasn’t the one held hostage by a geriatric psychopath.” Stiles’ expression was priceless.

“Jackson, what exactly do you think Gerard was doing with you? Of course you were held hostage, way more than me in this dumb basement for a few hours. Now tell me, are you okay?” and this was so typical of Stiles, putting everyone else first, putting Jackson first.

“Yeah, I will be.” The kiss he received was a benediction, a promise, sweet and tender and everything Stiles. 


End file.
